Girls of the Forest Part 28

She flew at Pauline, and before she could stop her Nancy had lifted the younger girl into her strong arms. She had not only lifted her into her arms, but she was running with her in the direction where Becky and Amy were minding the pony.

"Hurrah! I have won!" she cried. "She yields. Come and kiss her, the little duck.--Pauline, you silly, if you don't love me, I love you; and you will soon find out for yourself what a good time you are going to have, and what a goose you have made of yourself with all this ridiculous fuss. What a grand birthday you are going to have, Paulie! A birthday for a whole twenty-four hours--a whole day and a whole night! Remember, there will be presents, there will be surprises, there will be love, there will be sweetness. Trust us, you will never get into a sc.r.a.pe for this. Now run along home as fast as you can."

Pauline did not run. She closed the wicket-gate and walked soberly to the house. Strange as it may seem, once she had made her decision, the fact that she was to deceive her aunt, and do the thing that of all others would fill Aunt Sophia with horror, did not pain her. The conflict was over; she must rest now until the time came to go. She was a clever child, and she thought out the situation with wonderful clearness. She must go. There was no help for it. The sin must be sinned. After all, perhaps, it was not such a very great sin. Aunt Sophia would be happier if she never knew anything at all about it.

"If I go she will never know," thought the child. "Nancy is clever, and now that I have yielded to her she will not fail me. If I go it will never be discovered, and what has happened before will never be discovered; and Aunt Sophy will never have reason to distrust me, for she will never know. Yes," thought Pauline, "it is the only possible way."

She saw Penelope coming to meet her. The other girls were still busy with their birthday surprises, but Penelope had just deposited her own small and somewhat shabby present in Verena's keeping, and was now, as she expressed it, taking the air. When she saw Pauline she ran to meet her.

"I suppose you are feeling yourself monstrous 'portant, and all that sort of thing," she said.

"No, I am not," said Pauline.

Penelope gave her a quick glance out of her sharp eyes.

"Does you like me to be nursery or schoolroom child?" she asked.

"Oh, I like you to be just what you are, Pen; and I do beg of you not to worry me just now."

"You is most ungrateful. I has been spending my teeny bit of money on you. You will know what I has done on your birthday. You are going to get a most 'licious present, and it will be I who has gived it to you.

Sometimes I does wish I was two years older; but Aunt Sophy has got monstrous fond of me, Paulie, and of you, too. I know it. Shall I tell you how I know it?"

"How?" asked Pauline.

"I was standing near her when you said you wouldn't go for a drive, and she gave a big sigh, just as though she was hurted. I was hurted, too, for I thought I might perhaps sit on the little back-seat and hear more'n is good for me. People always say that little girls like me hear more'n is good for them. I love--I love hearing things of that wicked sort.

Well, you didn't go, and I couldn't have my nice drive on the little back-seat. But Aunt Sophy did give a pained sigh. She loves you, does Aunt Sophy. She loves me, too."

"Do you love me, Pen?" said Pauline suddenly, for it occurred to her that perhaps Penelope was the child who would have to accompany her to the midnight picnic. She knew enough of Penelope to be sure that she could be bribed. She was not so certain about the others.

"Do you love me, Pen?" she repeated.

"When you speak in that softy, sympathisy voice, I feel that I could just hug you," said Penelope.

"Then would you really help me?"

"Really and really. What am I to do? If you will whisper secrets to me, I will even forget that I am certain you know something most 'portant about that thimble, and I will cling to you like anything. You will be the oak, and I will be the ivy. It will be most lovely to be the close friend of the birthday queen. I do--oh, I do hope you are going to tell me a great secret!"

"Perhaps I am, but I can't tell you now."

"When will you tell me?"

"If I ever tell you, it will be before midday on my birthday. Now run away. Don't whisper a word of this."

"Not me," said Penelope. "I was borned to keep secrets."

She marched away in her usual stalwart fas.h.i.+on.

"I may have to take her with me," thought Pauline again. "If the others won't be bribed, I must fall back on her."

She felt a curious sense of relief, for of course Penelope could be bribed. A s.h.i.+lling would do it. Penelope would go to the end of the earth for a s.h.i.+lling, particularly if it was given to her all in pence. Twelve separate pence would send Penelope off her head.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE CONFERENCE.

It was late on the following evening when Pauline found herself alone with Briar and Patty. Both these little girls had plenty of character; but perhaps Patty had more of that estimable quality than her sister.

They were both straightforward by nature, upright and n.o.ble, and were already benefiting by the discipline which had at last come into their lives. The glories of the birthday which was so near were already beginning to shed some of their rays over Pauline, and her sisters felt themselves quite honored by her company.

"To think," said Briar, "that you are really only Paulie! I can scarcely bring myself to believe it."

"Why so?" asked Pauline.

"In twelve hours' time--in less--you will be a queen."

"It is rather like the Lord Mayor," said Patty. "It's all very grand, but it lasts for a very short time. Aunt Sophy was telling us to-day about the Lord Mayor and the great, tremendous Show, and I began to think of Pauline and her birthday. I could not help myself. It is a pity that a birthday should only last such a very short time!"

"Yes, that is the worst of it," said Pauline. "But then it comes every year. Perhaps it is all for the best that it should have a quick come and a quick go. Of course, I shall be very happy to-morrow, but I dare say I shall be glad when the next day arrives."

"Not you," said Briar. "I have known what the next day meant, even when we had only s.h.i.+lling birthdays. The others used to cry out, 'Your birthday is the farthest off now.' I used to keep my head covered under the bedclothes rather than hear them say it. Adelaide and Josephine always said it. But don't let's get melancholy over it now," continued Briar in a sympathetic tone. "When you lie down to-night you won't be able to sleep much; but you will sleep like a top to-morrow night. I expect you will wake about every two minutes to-night. Oh, it is exciting the night before a birthday! Even when we had s.h.i.+lling birthdays I used to wake the night before every few minutes. Once I got up at four o'clock in the morning. I went out. I had a cold afterwards, and a bad sore throat, but I never told anybody how I got it. If I was excited about my poor little birthday, what will you be to-morrow?"

"I don't know," said Pauline. "Listen, girls. I am so excited in one sense that I couldn't be any more so. I am so excited that I'm not excited. Can you understand what I mean?"

"No, I'm sure I can't a bit," said Briar.

"And it's quite likely," continued Pauline, "that I shall have no sleep at all the night after my birthday."

"What do you mean now?" asked Briar.

Pauline looked mysterious. The two girls glanced at her. Suddenly Pauline put one arm around Briar's neck and the other arm round Patty's neck.

"You are the nicest of us all--that is, of course, except Verena," she said. "I have always been fonder of you two than of Adelaide or Josephine or Helen or Lucy. As to Pen, well, I don't suppose any of us feel to Pen as we do to the rest. She is so different. Yes, I love you two. I love you just awfully."

"It is sweet of you to say that; and, seeing that you are to have a birthday so soon, it makes us feel sort of distinguished," said Briar.

"How old are you, Briar?"

"I'll be thirteen next May. That's a long time off. I do wish my birthday had waited until Aunt Sophy came on the scene."

"And my birthday comes in the winter," said Patty--"near Christmas; but I dare say Aunt Sophy will give us a good time then, too."

"I do like her awfully," said Pauline. "Now, girls, I want to ask you a question. I know you won't tell, for you are not the sort to tell."

"Of course we won't tell, Paulie."

"And you love me, don't you?"